


Mask of Deception

by VibraniumHeart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Kidnapping, Murder, Russian Mafia, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VibraniumHeart/pseuds/VibraniumHeart
Summary: After witnessing a murder your world is turned upside down. The line between friend and foe is blurred. And you're caught in the middle of something horrible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainy Reverie (Rainy_Reverie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy_Reverie/gifts).



> Sorry for slow postings. I had a bit of a rough patch these last few weeks so my brain has been scattered. I will continue to do my best to deliver the best quality work I can. Enjoy!

You heaved out a long sigh, scattering your bangs with the whoosh of air from your lungs. The restaurant was dark but for the dim bulbs around the bar. As per usual your boss, Odin, was at his usual table near the bar. He was nursing a small tumbler of whiskey as he counted down drawers, did deposits, and prepared drawers for the next day.

As you approached you untied your apron. Your feet were already snuggly in tennis shoes, rather than the usual heels you wore throughout the day. They were good for earning more tips but there was no point in walking home in them, even if it was only a few blocks.

"Are you still here, darling? Haven't I told you before you needn't stay to help an old man?"

You rolled your eyes and plopped into the chair across from him. Odin was a sweet older man, English, with one bright blue eye. The other he'd lost in the war, covered by a black patch. 

"And haven't I told you before that this place is my life?" You snorted. "It's not as if anyone is missing me. And I like helping."

His lips curved into a smile. "You'd have time to meet someone if you weren't here all the bloody time."

"And you would probably realize how thankful you are for me, how much I help keep this place afloat if..." He lifted a brow, challenging you to finish. "If you had both eyes to see it with."

He laughed, taking another swig from his glass. "Well if you're going to interrupt my work you might as well help yourself to a drink."

At that you bounced up onto your feet. "Don't mind if I do. Top shelf?" You asked cheekily. You could practically hear the roll of his eyes. "Middle is preferred but do what you will." 

Your eyes were scanning the numerous bottles when there was the sound of a buzzer. It was one used for deliveries. But, being that it was after one in the morning, it wasn't likely a delivery.

You were ready to brush it off as kids just messing around when you heard Odin curse. "Get down behind the bar, and don't make a sound."

"What?" You huffed out in a laugh. Odin wasn't laughing, though. His face was hardened stone, his fists clenched. "Dammit girl, do as I say!" He hissed.

You ducked down behind the bar as he moved to answer the door, if only because he had never so much as raised his voice at you. He'd been whisper shouting at you, however, and there was an edge of fear to his voice. 

There was no choice but to do as he asked. Though the floor had been freshly mopped the linoleum still felt a bit sticky. You watched through a crack between slats of wood as the door swung open and in stepped a group of men.

From what little you could see there had to have been at least four, all of them dressed in all black. 

And they all had sleek black metal in their hands. You swallowed down a gasp. Odin, however, didn't look surprised.

You heard the lock slide back into place and watched as best you could as Odin sat back down and took another drink. How could he be so calm? What was happening?

Cold sweat prickled at the back of your neck. The hope for answers quickly dissipated when they began to speak in a language you didn't know. It sounded like Russian.

You weren't even aware Odin knew any language other than English, but he responded fluently in the same tongue. It was eery to note that none of them raised their voices. They hardly sounded upset at all for men carrying guns into a restaurant in the middle of the night.

In your chest your heart pounded violently, sweat slicking your palms. Your knees protested at your kneeling position, the hum from the bar lights seeming to grow louder with every passing second.

Finally Odin sighed and tossed back the last of his drink. He cast a single blue eye to a tall and muscular blonde. "Will it be you, then?" 

The blonde cast his eyes away and said nothing. From behind him stepped a dark haired man, with pale blue eyes that were iridescent in the dim lighting. 

"Ah.." Odin nodded. "But of course, Soldier." He sat back in his chair, as if he had all the time in the world and not a single concern. "Guess the Silvertongue finally gets his revenge then. He is the one who sold me out, yes?"

The man he had called the soldier nodded but said nothing as he raised his gun. The breath was sucked out of your lungs, the rush of blood pounding violently in your ears. Your stomach plunged. Not a sound would come out. You couldn't move, so paralyzed with fear.

"Well then, get on with it." He squeezed the trigger. The sound exploded in your ear drums, dulling sound down to nothing more than a high pitched ringing.

Blood spattered over the table and over the drawers he had been working on moments ago. There was a hole through the back of his head, a mess of blood and hair as he slumped forward. Unmoving. 

Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. Fear gripped your heart and twisted violently in your stomach. The next thing you knew you were moving, crawling out on your hands and knees from behind the bar and into the kitchen.

Out the back door and you were on your feet, racing home. How you made it there you weren't sure. All you could see was the slump of Odin's body and hear the echoing of the shot.

After heaving for what felt like forever you blindly thew yourself into the shower, heart still hammering in your chest. Odin was dead, and you'd done nothing to stop it. 

It wasn't until the water ran cold that you realized you were trembling. And that you needed to call the police. You were the only witness to a murder. Well, the only one that hadn't taken part in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fighter chapter will be up soon. Probably tomorrow night.

The shower did absolutely nothing to calm your frayed nerves. It only served to remind you of the need to call police to report what had happened. Odin was a good and kind man and the last thing he deserved (other than being murdered) was for the case to never be solved.

With that in mind you threw on a baggy t-shirt and comfy pajama bottoms. A cloud of steam left the bathroom with you.

Your fingers were just curling around the phone when a voice sounded behind you. "What call could be so important that it has to be made after two in the morning?"

You dropped the phone with a squeal, whipping around to see where the voice had come from. Moonlight filtered in through the partially open blinds, revealing dark hair and unnaturally pale eyes. The same eyes you had seen from behind the bar. 

"Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?" You walked backwards as you spoke, heading for the door.

A dark brow rose above a pale eye. "It's come to my attention that you've seen too much."

Your head shook violently, fear and adrenaline making you wired and shaky. "I..I don't know what y-you're talking about."

The dark haired man heaved a sigh, as if the conversation was already boring him. "You're a terrible liar, doll." He held up his hand and, instinctively, you flinched. You'd been expecting him to wave a gun in your face.

Instead in his long, pale fingers was your phone. He waved it tauntingly. "You left this in the pocket of your apron."

You swallowed hard. "So what? People leave their phones at work all the time.." 

His lips curved into a smirk. "Especially when they've witnessed a murder, hm? It was probably the last thing you were worried about. It's no use lying to me, sweetheart. There are cameras behind the bar, you know."

Had they looked through the footage, gone to delete the evidence of what they'd done? What he had done. And they moved fast, too. You hadn't been in the shower long at all.

That left you with only one option, to run. You turned on your heel and darted for the door, your heart once more slamming into your ribs.

You heard the scrape of a chair. As your fingers curled around the knob a hand slammed into the wood to stop you. But it wasn't made of flesh. Instead gleaming silver plates were in the shape of a hand. Fear tightened your throat, his husky voice in your ear.

"I wouldn't do that. Did you think I'd come alone?" He made a shushing sound in your ear. "And trust me, they aren't as nice as I am." 

Nice? What kind of a nice guy killed your boss and then came to your home to murder you? It was anyone's guess why you were still alive.

You ducked beneath the cage of his arms, rolled across the floor and up onto your feet. You sprinted toward the window, to the fire escape.

Strong arms wrapped around you with a distinctive whir. As the scream began to bubble up out of you cold metal clapped over your mouth.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He growled. You kicked your legs as hard as you could, hitting him in the shins. It only seemed to irritate him, rather than hurt him.

He cursed in Russian. "Stop fighting!" He huffed in the same irritation and not a hint of exertion. You kept kicking and he sighed before a sharp jab to your ribs knocked the wind out of you.

For a moment you stopped struggling to focus on breathing through the pain. As you sucked in a breath the metal hand dropped from your mouth and came back. 

By the time you realized it now held a white cloth it was too late, having already sucked in a breath. Your vision blurred and blackened, your body going slack in his arms.

"Should've just started with that." He mused. He hefted you over his shoulder like a rag doll and went over to the window you'd been trying to get to. 

"Yeah, yeah I got her." He mumbled as he slid open the window. Your vision continued to blacken in an attempt to drag you under.

You felt the whoosh of air and a hard jostle as he jumped to the pavement below. The last thing you saw was the trunk you were put into before darkness consumed you completely. 

You woke with your head pounding, the ache reaching the backs of your eyes. As soon as you tried to sit up a flash of pain lanced through your ribs. With a groan you tugged up your shirt to reveal a purple bruise about the size of a fist.

Fighting the intruder came rushing back to you. At the same time you realized you weren't in your bed, the sheets a fine silk beneath you.

"Sorry about my handi-capable friend. He doesn't know his own strength." You yanked your shirt down in surprise. The man who'd spoken was sitting in a chair across from the bed, wearing a tailored suit and sunglasses even though you were indoors.

Before you could swallow past the lump in your throat he spoke again. "My name is Stark. Tony Stark. You'll be a guest here in my mansion for the foreseeable future."

Your stomach dropped and tightened in panic, cold sweat prickling at your skin. Still you were angry at his blaise attitude. "A guest?" You huffed incredulously. "You kidnapped me!" 

He shrugged a shoulder upwards. "An unwilling guest is still a guest. Bucky did say you were quite fiery." 

Confusion knit your brows. The man who had taken you, killed Odin...was named Bucky? It didn't sound like the name of a cold blooded killer and kidnapper. 

"He's been assigned to watch over you. You'll notice your room has no windows, which is a shame. Lovely view. One exit. With Bucky standing guard on it. Catch the drift here?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your fear. "No point trying to escape?" You bit out, crossing your arms over your chest.

Even though he was still wearing the sunglasses you could practically see the wink he sent your way. "Beauty and brains." He complimented as he moved for the door. Before he slipped out he tossed you a look over his shoulder. "Be on your best behavior, and you have my word I'll release you as soon as I'm able."

Anger welled up in you. What made him think he was so incapable of letting you go right this second? You wanted and deserved an answer. "Let me go, now!" 

The only response you got was the door shutting behind him, leaving you alone in the bedroom that was almost as big as your apartment. No windows. Two doors. One to the bathroom and, the other, to the hall where Bucky was standing guard over you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really shit at posting and I'm sorry. Kinda lost some motivation not gonna lie. But hopefully you all like this chapter and I'm going to post Fighter as soon as I've got it done. I will also eventually reply to the messages/comments I've got. Hope you all had a good thanksgiving

"Your presence is requested at dinner." Bucky growled to you some time later. You had spent the time you'd had alone making sure there was no way out from the room itself. Tony hadn't been lying about that.

There were clothes in the huge walk in closet, in varying sizes. Enough that it made you wonder how often they did this sort of thing. They all had brand new tags on them as well, though.

So you took black yoga pants and gray knit sweater and had thrown them on. You arched a brow at Bucky. "Requested?" Did that mean you could refuse?

Bucky rolled his steel blue eyes. "Demanded. I'm escorting you down."

"Not exactly what I would call it. Gonna poison me and dump me in a river?"

A slight smirk twisted at his cupid's bow mouth. "If the intention was to kill you, you'd be dead already, sugar."

Your stomach swooped low, all too aware that he could kill you at any time. Could have already. He certainly hadn't hesitated with Odin. You felt a flash of sorrow for him. He'd been so kind.

Bucky raised a brow at you expectantly. "Well?" He gestured toward the hall. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Dinner?" He motioned toward the hall again. You swallowed the lump that lodged itself in your throat.

"Uhm...right now?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't be difficult, sweetheart. Yes. Now." 

"I'm sorry my being held hostage by you is so inconvenient for you. And stop doing that. Stop calling me sugar and all that." 

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Okay. Let's go." With no more reasons to stall, and too nervous about the outcome if you fought him further you followed him into the hall.

It was clear the place was a mansion. Everything was...way over the top. Carpets seemed to be made from fine fibers, the hard floors done in what looked like marble. Doors were carved with intricate designs, and there was more than one fountain.

Like a new age Scarface kind of vibe. Tony certainly seemed to fit the role. You tried to keep track of where Bucky was leading you. But there were so many hallways, twists and turns. 

You realized, several minutes in, that he was probably doing it on purpose to confuse you. And the bastard even had the nerve to take you to the foyer, where you could see the sky growing darker outside with the slowly setting sun. 

As you began to pass there was a hard knock at the door. Bucky shot you a look. "Don't do anything stupid." 

He pulled you with him toward the door. With one hand he kept a hold on you and, with the other, opened the door. You were behind the door so that you couldn't see who it was properly.

And then Bucky opened the door a little wider, and you could just make out the familiar black uniform of your local police department. There was a familiar static sound, mumbled words you couldn't understand.

But hope flooded into your chest. Without thinking you grabbed hold of the door and gave it a yank. "Officer, thank god! They've kidnapped me and are holding me hostage!"

Bucky tipped his head back to sigh, cursing in Russian under his breath. The cop pushed his way in, his eyebrows pinched together.

"Is that true, Mr. Barnes?" He pushed the door shut behind him. Confusion flared within you as Bucky simply shrugged a shoulder. "And what if it is, Captain Rogers?"

The cop sighed, switching his radio off. "God dammit, Buck. I told you I don't want details. If she's your new pet you might wanna invest in a leash. Or a muzzle."

Your mouth dropped open in shock, a cold sweat breaking out over you. There was a dark, rich, laugh from behind you, where Tony Stark stood holding a tumbler filled with amber liquid. "I think you broke her bad cop cherry, Stevie."

Bucky snorted. "Can you break a cherry if you are a cherry?" 

Steve scoffed, "Fuck off, punk. Am not." The two laughed and embraced for a quick moment. Your eyes dropped to Steve's hip, where his gun sat tauntingly.

You were so close to it and the door, trying to quickly analyze the potential for success. Before you could lift your hand there was a cool arm sliding around your hip, Bucky's voice low in your ear.

"Don't think that's a good idea. I'm sure you could take it, but could you use it?" You felt your mouth run dry with uncertainty. You turned to meet his steely gaze, surprised at just how close he was.

"If you were on the other end? Absolutely." 

Bucky didn't look the least bit intimidated as he smiled and began leading you toward the dining room. "Well, I'll be sitting beside you all night. So feel free to stab me with the utensil of your choosing. Of course, you'd have to get through the rest of the family."

Your heart pounded hard in your chest as you approached the dining room. Another lump lodged itself in your throat. Dimly you hoped they didn't expect you to eat. The idea of eating dinner with a group of criminals not exactly stoking your hunger. 

So distracted you were by your thoughts you hadn't noticed you'd stopped in front of the double doors until Bucky sighed again. "C'mon, I'm starved princess." Abd then he was opening the doors and all but pushing you inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably a short chapter. I honestly don't know. I tried? I'm trying not to abandon this, truly I am.

The dining room was, somewhat surprisingly, rather lively. Tony was at the head of the table, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. To his right sat the blonde you had seen at the bar--the one who stared down Odin. Beside him was Steve, the cop, and across from him was the dark skinned man--Sam, you picked up from the lively conversations between the men.

 

Bucky all but forced you into the seat next to Sam, while he took the other end. The large blonde you learned was Thor. However, the rest of the conversation turned into a loud hum in your ears. Sweat prickled at your skin, heartbeat fluttering wildly in your chest. In front of you was a roast, the red broth pooling around the meat alongside a large serving of potatoes and vegetables.

 

Their chatter grew louder and louder in your ears, bearing down onto your shoulders like a tremendous weight. There they all were---eating and laughing and talking as if they hadn't just killed a man more hours ago. And the red broth on your plate was too eerily similar to the picture in your head. 

 

It was one of Odin, slumped over the table as his lungs wheezed out a final death rattle, one crystal blue eye dimming of its light, blood dripping from the corner of his open mouth. Your stomach gave a violent lurch and, with it, your body. 

 

Like watching a scene from a movie you could see yourself flip the table powerfully, sending food and drink off the table in a cacophony of sound. Chairs scraped back before a single drop had touched the men.

 

A butterknife was clenched in your fist, hardly noticed by you, until you were on your feet and your back was slammed roughly into the wall. Bucky was across from you, his jaw ticking and fire blazing in his eyes.

 

The knife shot upwards and jammed into his shoulder. Bucky looked stunned for a moment, dark brows lifting as he shifted his gaze to the knife. More calmly he sighed, his eyes several degrees cooler as they found yours once more. 

 

Flesh fingers cupped your jaw and squeezed gently. "Breathe." He commanded evenly.

 

Your chest shuddered out a breath. "What?"

 

He sighed again, as if he was speaking to a child. "Breathe. In. And out." He kept repeating the words until your heartbeat evened out along with your breath.

 

Bucky let his hand drop to the knife and, with a small grunt of effort, wrenched it free. It clattered to the ground metallicly. "We need to talk. Now."

 

He glanced over his shoulder at Tony. "Sorry about dinner, boss."

 

Tony laughed, head tipped back lazily. "Fuck it, that was the most entertaining meal we've had in a while."

 

Steve groaned, scraping a hand down his face. "Bucky.."

 

The dark haired man waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. I got it handled. Don't you have some pill popping housewives to arrest or something?"

 

With that Bucky's attention was back on you, amusement gone from his eyes. "Lead the way, Printessa. I'd rather not leave my back to you, considering the stabbing." 

 

Helplessness settled into your stomach once more, twisting your stomach into knots the closer you got to your room. Once inside he shut the door and locked it with a snick. He motioned for you to sit on the bed. He stayed standing and, once you complied, he began to speak.

 

"I don't think I need to tell you how childish that was." He cut off any retort with a raised hand. "I get it. You think we're evil. Believe it or not, this is for your own good." Quickly he undid the top four buttons of his shirt and pulled the fabric aside to reveal a jagged red scar down his left shoulder where flesh was seared together with metal. Amidst the scar was the wound from your stab. There was hardly any blood around it, just a small hole where it shouldn't be.

 

"See this?" He ran his finger down the raised scar. "This is what could've happened to you, if you weren't here with us."

 

Confusion and a little guilt weighed you even further down. He redid the buttons with a sigh. "And, for the record, I was joking about you stabbing me. I think you owe me an apology."

 

Your jaw dropped. "An----an apology? Are you high? You kidnapped me!"

 

Bucky scrunched up his face, lips pursed as he gave a one shouldered shrug. "Saved you, but I can see where you might be confused."

 

You blinked slowly. "Saved me? Okay, yep, that settles it. Rationality won't work because you're fuckin mental."

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Odin had a lot of enemies. You think it was just us?" He shook his head. "Not even close. This?" He gestured to the covered scar, "this is what they do. The Widow, especially. And you? You've worked with Odin since he got out. A man with so many enemies, made friends with his employee. How many late night chats did you have with him? Who's to say he never opened his rat mouth to you? You think you'd be hard to erase? For them, it would be nothing."

 

You swallowed hard, shaking your head to rid it of the information. It was too much and not enough, it made sense but it didn't. Most of all, you wished you hadn't seen anything at all. But would you have still been taken? 

 

"But I don't...I don't know anything." You argued. 

 

Bucky laughed, though there was no humor in it. "Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. They'd torture you into saying anything that suited them. Have you making up lies just so they end it quick. Trust me on that." He sighed once more, shifting toward the door.

 

"I still don't really understand all of this." Odin had been one of them, had turned rat for...what? And there were others like Bucky, other mobs that would have taken you too? You were just a waitress, a nobody keeping an old man company because he was grandfatherly. There was nothing you knew. Nothing valuable. 

 

"Can't you tell me more? You can't just kidnap me..."save me" and tell me nothing."

 

Bucky snorted. "Why not? You stabbed a man with a butter knife because of a panic attack." 

 

A frown pulled at your mouth. "A man who kidnapped me..." 

 

He lifted his brows smugly.

 

"You know, I kinda regret not stabbing you harder." 

 

His lips twitched slightly into a smirk. "You don't mean that. Besides, doesn't count if I let you stab me." 

 

Your eyes narrowed into slits. "People try to stab you a lot, huh?" He was infuriating! And smug to boot.

 

Bucky did the one shouldered shrug again. "Depends on your definition of a lot. You want information, I get it. But I'm not telling you more until you stop acting like a brat. And you want to go home, noted. Hate to break it to you, but that doesn't exist for you anymore. We wiped you off the map, darlin. If you behave, you'll get your own new spot back on the map. If not...." He trailed off, leaving nothing but the sound of the door shutting behind him. 

 

Your home was gone, all your things, Odin was gone too....and you? Had no choice but to "behave" as Bucky had put it. Could you really risk someone worse taking you, if he was telling the truth? And Steve was a cop---surely there had to be SOME good in him, right?

 

The tears didn't come, instead a heavy blanket of numbness weighing you down onto the sheets and beneath the comforter. It darkened your vision at the edges, kept a chill in your bones. Part of you wished Bucky would come back, if only to sedate you once more. 

 

Surely sleep was better than this, even if it couldn't last forever. You'd just have to find out more, figure out a way out of this mess. There had to be something, anything. And a good place to start was just outside the door, with a small wound in his shoulder. 


End file.
